


Band-Aids

by blackat_t7t



Category: Supernatural
Genre: During Canon, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Winchesters, M/M, Not Underage, Pre-Series, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-01
Updated: 2011-07-01
Packaged: 2018-09-08 01:04:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8823832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackat_t7t/pseuds/blackat_t7t
Summary: The box of ThunderCats Band-Aids had seen the Winchester boys through many injuries over the years.Primarily a Wee!chesters fic, but with a scene of established Wincest at the end when they're older. No Wee!cest.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Written for a prompt [here](http://spneveryficmeme.livejournal.com/792.html?thread=75800#t75800) at SPNeveryficmeme, "Hurt/comfort fic about the one of the boys patching the other up after a hunt and there is a cute moment in which Band-Aids are used. Wincest, please."

The box of ThunderCats Band-Aids had seen the Winchester boys through many injuries over the years. Dean bought them from a convenience store across the street from their hotel when Sam was four. Even now he could remember that day, how happy and innocent Sam was and how simple and easy it was to protect him

Dean had been sitting by the door of their room reading a comic book when he heard Sammy crying. The comic slipped from his hands, forgotten, as Dean sprang to his feet. He ran full-speed across the parking lot to where Sam had been playing, his heart pounding in his chest. Sammy had slipped and skinned his knee, and he was sobbing. Dean scooped his brother up in his arms and carried him inside, shushing him gently and nuzzling his brother’s hair, silently ordering himself to Stop Freaking Out because Sammy needed him. Sam’s sobs faded to whimpers while Dean washed the wound with soap and then looked through their bags for Band-Aids. Not finding any, he told Sam to Stay There while he ran to buy some from the store.

Dean grabbed the first box of Band-Aids he found, wanting to get back to Sammy quickly, and it was just an added bonus that they had pictures of ThunderCats, a show Sammy loved. When Dean returned, Sam had stopped crying, and he just sniffled softly as he dabbed at his knee with the washcloth Dean had used to clean it.

“Alright, Sammy, I’m gonna put a Band-Aid on it and kiss it better, and you’re gonna be just fine, okay?” Sam nodded, his eyes still bright with tears, and Dean smiled encouragingly. He fished through the box and pulled out a Band-Aid with a picture of Lion-O, the cool, powerful leader of the ThunderCats.

“Not that one,” Sammy objected when Dean tried to put it on him. “Want Cheetara.”

“Cheetara’s a girl!”

“So?” Sam stuck out his lower lip. “She’s cool! She’s super-fast, and she can see the future!”

“Okay, fine,” Dean sighed, dropping the Lion-O Band-Aid back into the box and poking through it until he found one with the cheetah woman on it. “One Cheetara Band-Aid, for the little girl.” Dean laughed when Sam crossed his little arms over his chest and glared. He opened the Band-Aid, took the washcloth from Sammy’s knee, and gently spread the bandage over the cut skin, being very careful not to press down too hard. Then Dean leaned down and brushed his lips lightly against the colorful plastic, kissing it.

“There, all better!” he declared as he straightened up, with a bright grin that Sam grudgingly returned.

*          *          *

When Sammy was six, he went through a phase where he thought every tiny cut required multiple Band-Aids. Their father was somewhat annoyed by it, and constantly reminded Sam that they couldn’t be buying a whole new box every time one of the boys got a skinned knee, but when Dad wasn’t around Dean pretty much let Sam use as many as he wanted.

While Dad was away and they were once again playing in the parking lot, Dean “borrowed” the hotel owner’s son’s bicycle and rode it around the parking lot. Sam, who was playing with sidewalk chalk, called to Dean to look at his finished drawing, and Dean, distracted, hit a concrete parking stop, and flew over the handlebars. Sam immediately dropped the chalk and ran to Dean’s side, tugging on his arm and shirt and asking if he was okay.

“I’m fine,” Dean insisted without thinking. He quickly disentangled himself from the bike and scrambled to his feet, then took a moment to decide if he was really fine or not. He had scrapes along his knees and on his palms, and he could feel blood running down his forehead. Dean allowed Sam to drag him inside, feeling the raw skin of his knees protest the movement.

When they got inside, Dean tried to get the first-aid kit, but Sam insisted he stay seated on the bed, so Dean was reduced to calling orders from there. Sam dutifully brought him a wet cloth to clean the dirt from his cuts, and then came back with a box of the plain Band-Aids that Dean always insisted on using for his own scrapes. Sammy had gotten a hold of the box a week ago when he fell of the monkey bars at the park down the road, and it was mostly empty.

Dean sighed and allowed Sam to put five Band-Aids over his left knee, even though he was certain the cut only warranted two at most. When he was finished, Sammy leaned down and kissed the Band-Aids, just like Dean always did for Sam when he got hurt. Sam put three more on Dean’s right knee, and then the box was empty.

“Stay there,” Sam insisted, and he ran to their duffel bag to rummage through it in search of more. Dean was about to tell him to stop, that he was fine, when Sam found the old box of ThunderCats Band-Aids. Sammy brought the box back over to Dean, stuck a fourth on the right knee for good measure, kissed it, and then went to work on Dean’s skinned hands.

Two hands, one forehead, and twelve Band-Aids later, Dean was pretty sure he’d have been a mummy if Sam hadn’t decided to stop. Sammy placed one last kiss on Dean’s forehead, then got up and put the Band-Aids away. “I’m gonna put the bike back,” he told Dean from the door. “Otherwise you’ll get in trouble. I’ll be right back, okay?”

“No, Sammy,” Dean murmured, holding out his arms for Sam. He was sore, and didn’t want to get up to go with Sam, but he’d be damned if he let his little brother leave the room without Dean’s eyes on him. He could just get in trouble for the bike.

Sam hesitated for a moment, then relented. He climbed up on the bed and settled down next to Dean, head against his shoulder. Sam snatched the remote from the nightstand and they started bickering about what show to watch, but Dean’s heart wasn’t in it. They ended up watching ThunderCats.

*          *          *

When Sam, Dean, and John stumbled back into the hotel room after ending another haunting, the first thing on everyone’s mind was to take a hot shower and go to bed. John was in the shower before either of the boys, so Dean just sprawled out on one of the beds, groaning softly as he did. His back ached from having the damn ghost topple a bookcase on him.

Dean opened his eyes to see his little brother scratching at his arm. There was a spot of blood there that Sammy was picking at. Concern even for a minor wound getting the better of fatigue, Dean got up and went over to his brother. “What’s wrong?”

“Just a splinter,” Sammy replied. “Fucking Casper hit me with a goddamn wooden bat.”

“Don’t let Dad catch you talking like that,” Dean admonished, momentarily regretting repeating swear words in front of Sammy when Dad used to leave them alone. He sat next to his brother and gently brushed Sam’s hand away to get a look at the tiny wound. At twelve years old now, Sam was too big to stay behind, but Dean still didn’t like having his little brother in harm’s way. Confidant that it really was just a little splinter, Dean whipped out his Swiss army knife and took the tweezers from it. He carefully sealed them around the end of the sliver of wood and worked it out. Then Dean stood and began looking for some Band-Aids.

“I’m fine, Dean, it’s just a little scratch,” Sam objected. “I don’t need a Band-Aid.”

Dean rummaged through their bags, grinning when he found the old box of ThunderCats Band-Aids. “Are you sure? Not even a Cheetara one?” He pulled out one such Band-Aid and waved it in Sam’s face.

“Dean!” Sammy whined, swatting Dean’s hand away. They batted at each other for a minute, then both dropped their hands to their sides as John came out of the bathroom. With one last glace at Sammy’s arm, Dean dropped the Band-Aid on the night stand and went to take his shower.

When Dean came out of the bathroom, he noticed that the Band-Aid was gone. He looked over at Sam, and saw that his little brother had indeed put the Band-Aid on, despite saying he didn’t need one. “You want me to kiss it better, too?” Dean teased, and Sam scowled at him.

As Sam walked past Dean to get to the bathroom, Dean quickly caught his brother’s bicep in his hand and ducked his head to brush a kiss across the Band-Aid. “What the Hell?” Sam asked weakly, snatching his arm back.

“It feels better now, doesn’t it?” Dean asked, feigning innocence. Sam frowned, looking down at his arm. He ran one finger over the colorful plastic.

“You always make it better when I’m hurt,” Sammy whispered softly before turning back towards the bathroom, and Dean smiled tenderly after his brother.

*          *          *

Dean groaned as he slipped his arm from around Sam’s shoulders and dropped to the bed. An encounter with a demon had left him more than a little worse for wear. He closed his eyes and listened to the sound of Sam rummaging through their bags for medical supplies, and kept them closed even as his right arm was gently lifted and a bandage wrapped around the gash on his forearm.

“Dean, sit up,” Sam whispered gently. “You need to take some Advil.”

With Sam’s help and his good arm, Dean levered himself up. He took the pills Sam held out to him and swallowed them down with the glass of water Sam had brought. Sam gently lifted Dean’s shirt, maneuvering it off of first one arm, then his head, so that the fabric could simply be slid down the bad arm without moving it. Dean stayed upright, waiting for the medication to kick in, while Sam went back to the bag and took out a few instant cold packs and some bruise salve. He tried not to flinch as his brother applied the bruise salve to the more minor hurts and then directed him to lie back while Sam set the cold compresses over the worse bruises.

Sam flashed Dean a sympathetic look as he started to pack the things away. Dean rolled his eyes at him, not wanting the pity. He patted the bed next to him with his good hand. “Come lay by me, Sam.”

“Dean,” Sam said, the look of pity morphing into his patented Bitchface.

“I’m not trying to cuddle, here, man!” Dean objected, then groaned when his muscles protested being clenched. “Too sore for that anyway,” he murmured more softly. “I just want you by me.”

Sam pursed his lips but didn’t answer, obviously not believing that Dean wouldn’t try something that would aggravate his injuries. He resumed packing away the medical supplies, then paused. He pulled something from the bag, a battered, brightly-colored box. Sam shook the ThunderCats Band-Aid box and looked at Dean. “You still have these, after all these years?”

“Hey, Band-Aid’s a Band-Aid, and you never know when you might need one,” Dean said defensively, but he knew Sam didn’t buy that. He knew that Dean had kept the box as a reminder of their childhood taking care of each other, and that the few bandages left inside were just an excuse.

Sam pulled a Band-Aid from the box, then set the box with the other supplies and zipped the bag closed. He came over to Dean with the Band-Aid and stood before him next to the bed as he slowly unwrapped the little bandage. Dean saw that it had Lion-O on it.

“Where you gonna put that? I think I’m a little past Band-Aids here, Sam.”

Sam didn’t speak, but gently reached out and smoothed the Band-Aid over Dean’s left cheek. Dean almost shivered at the delicate touch. “You had a little cut there,” Sam whispered as he pulled his hands back.

Dean gazed into his brother’s eyes for a moment, captivated. He would later swear that it was the pain pills starting to kick in that made him say, “You gonna kiss it better?”

Sam leaned down, and Dean could feel Sam’s nose pressing into his cheek as his brother’s lips touched plastic and skin, lingering, tender, in a gesture they had shared before many times, but never quite so intimately. He could feel Sam’s breath on his skin as his brother pulled back, but only far enough that they could look into each other’s eyes.

“Love you, Sammy,” Dean whispered against his brother’s lips.

Sam let the “Sammy” go and simply whispered, “Love you too, Dean.” Then he straightened up, walked around the bed, and lay down on the other side of Dean. “No cuddling, though,” he said in a stern tone. “Those ice packs need to stay where I put them.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean muttered as Sam pulled the comforter from the foot of the bed over them, not wanting to jostle Dean by getting under the sheets he was lying on. “Bitch.”

“Jerk,” Sam answered fondly as he clicked the bedside lamp off. Dean heard his brother sigh and felt him move around, trying to get comfortable. Then Sam’s hand found his under the covers, and Dean took it. It was something they could never do in public, something Dean could rarely bring himself to do even in private, but now, with their hands hidden under the covers, it felt safe to do. It felt good.

Dean squeezed Sam’s hand. “Love you.”

Sam shifted in the bed, then leaned over Dean to press one last kiss against the ThunderCats Band-Aid and whispered, “You too,” against it before settling back to sleep, his fingers still entwined with Dean’s below the covers.

 

  



End file.
